A Summer I Can Remember
by Jade1596
Summary: Pocahontas goes through a wild summer meeting a new boy who will change her life. While on her journey she tries desperately to keep a secret away from her dad.
1. Chapter 1

I stared up at the Justin Timberlake poster across my room. The sun hit his face just right ;he looked like he was shining. His beautiful eyes focused on me 24/7 making me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. In real life, I knew that we would never happen, but the fantasy was just that. I've had that poster forever, Justin's head was shaved into a very attractive buzz cut and he had on a tie that was perfectly around his neck. The poster was on my pale green wall that I have been wanting to repaint since I was nine. I wanted pink walls like the color of strawberry yogurt, but my father said there was nothing wrong with green. "Green represents nature."  
I rolled my eyes. Green wasn't as cool as it was when I was younger. Green made me feel four, at least pink was more sensual. I knew that one day I could have a handsome boy that could come and sweep me off my feet and wisp me away to another place or possibly my room. I didn't want a boy in this room.

I spread out across my bed, I took my pillow and pulled it into my chest. This summer was going be proactive and I knew that when my dad told me I wasn't going to camp this year and that I should invest myself into something that would have a lasting impact. This was his fancy way of saying job, but I didn't really want to engage with people for more than eight hours. I did that for two semesters sat school. I got him to change his mind and told him that I was an artist and that I would be building my portfolio so I could get into a decent art school. I would be painting all summer. I would possibly write a few songs.

I hung off the edge of my bed and then slide to the floor. The hardwood was freezing, but it gave me that kick that made me more alert. I skipped over to my bathroom and cleaned up. I took my long black hair and pulled it up. I fluffed it out to get that cute messy look. I wanted to wear my free spirit crop top, but it was in my laundry basket so I was wearing a dress. I pulled the French doors of my closet. There was a squeaky noise when one of them moved, but I didn't have time to fix it. I didn't want to fix. I pushed through a few shirts and then grabbed a blue dress cover with pink roses. I smoothed out the wrinkles as best I could. I went to find shoes to match, but I couldn't see a thing under my cluttered floor. I pushed clothes and papers with my feet. I found one pink sandal and then I found the other near the window. I went door stairs passing by the cinnamon air freshers that were a gift to my father for his fiftieth birthday. His placed them randomly throughout the house, but the scent was so strong it was the first thing you smelled when you went came inside the house.  
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a red velvet pop tart from the pantry. My father had done the dishes and placed them on the drying rack. I was happy he was contributing to some of the work around the house. He was gone most of the time for work and I was left to do everything. I guess I just wanted him to care and he showed me that he did, by doing the dishes.

I didn't leave the house at a reasonable time, the sun was high and the sky which meant that by the time I made it to the woods it would be scorching hot and the trees would provide some shade, but it wouldn't be enough. I should have left my house at seven, but it's ten thirty. I got out of the house and got in my car to drive to the park. I finished my pop tart on the way and got here at a decent time. I put my portfolio over my shoulder and walked my way into the trees. I should have reduced the stuff inside it because my shoulder was being crushed by ten pounds of paper, pencils, and paint. I shoved all the crap inside because I didn't want more stuff to carry. I just stopped and picked a place.

I pulled out my cotton paper, which was fantastic to draw on, but terrible when you messed up. I picked up my pencils and separated the hard pencils from the brittle ones. I grabbed the 2H pencil. I stared off into the distance and let my pencil guide my hand. I could see trees that went on for miles. There was space in-between each one. There all had different shapes. The greens weren't all the same either. One tree was more of a line green, while the other was more of a dark green; this was because the sunlight hit some of the trees and not others. It was peaceful sitting in the woods drawing trees. I kicked off my shoes. I placed my feet into the dirt. I switched my pencils. I was at peace. I was at least going to get one drawing done, then I would go home and fill them in with watercolor. I shaded some areas with another pencil and then I used a blender.

The birds chirped loudly flying from tree to tree. I heard the squirrels run through the dirt, grabbing whatever plant on the ground and then run away again. I wanted them to stay still for at least a few minutes so I could get them in my piece, but they were too active. I gave up on them a minute or so in. I wished I hadn't of drawn half on one onto my paper. The sun starting beating down on me hard. I still had another few hours out here and wasn't going to be done until at least one o'clock. My toes were getting warm. I had to change positions, thus changing my view. I could fake my picture. I picked the 2H pencil again.

A deer came into view eating a plant I could only barely make out. It barely moved bobbing its head only a few seconds. I sketched him fast. I picked up a darker pencil to define the shape. I heard a bang, then it happened.  
The deer feel to its side making a crash sound as it hit the leaves. I jumped to my feet and ran to it. The poor creature was unresponsive. I touched him and he twitched and then stiffened.

"Where did you come from?" A young blonde came rushing to the scene. He had a rifle in his right hand. I looked up at him. He looked worried and confused. "Well, are you all right?" He looked tense.

"Why, did you kill this dear?" I asked. I stroked the poor creature's body. I stopped at the gunshot wound. The blonde looked confused.  
"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine!" I yelled. He stepped back clutching his rifle. "It was innocent! And you killed it!"

"I have the right to do whatever I want. It was in my view and I shot it!" He yelled back.

"This creature had feelings, it probably had a family."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you. You just kill anything you wish."

"No, and I came over here to make sure that you weren't hurt. I'm on a hunting trip with my buddies. We haven' had much luck and this was the first deer we got."

"Maybe you should pick a new hobby. Maybe you should pick up golf."

"I do that too, but I like to mix things up." He smiled at me. His teeth were white and straight. He eyes partly closed as he grinned. When he opened his eyes, I could see that they were a beautiful blue. He was the blue-eyed monster.

"Listen, I am sorry about the deer. I'm going to eat it if it makes you feel better."

"No, it doesn't, but I hope you have a nice meal." I stood up and began walking back to my spot.

"I really am sorry." He said.

"Whatever," I said.

"I'm John, by the way." He said. He smirked and pushed his hair back with his free hand. He pushed the rifle into the ground.

"I never asked your name."

"I know, but I thought you should know. What's your's?"

"Why do yo need to know."

"I like to know the name of all the people I meet. We may meet again."

"I hope we don't."

"You don't believe in destiny?"

"I do."

"Then you should believe we may meet again. So, your name?

"Pocahontas."


	2. Chapter 2

I believed in destiny, but I didn't believe that I would see this John guy again. I felt that he had a sense of arrogance. He pushed his blonde hair back so much. He didn't have the nerve to me look me in the eye. He stared over my head and at the deer. But, he was serious about eating it. A minute or so after our conversation a group of guys came and hauled it onto an orange stretcher and carried it away.  
I hurried over to my spot and collected my portfolio and went back to my car. I saw John and his buddies shoving the creature to the back of a silver Chevy. John got a quick glance at me before he hopped in the truck. He was talking to a guy with red hair who looked like a kid. He was a few inches shorter than John. He red hair was short barely pass his ears and parted down the middle. He looked at me. He gave me a childish smile that was so unattractive it was funny. John hopped out of the truck, grabbed the red head by the back of his neck and shoved him into the car. John didn't even bother to look at me. As they pulled away I could see the redhead waving at me again only this time he winked.

The whole situation was awkward. I went from yelling at a guy for killing a deer to trying to understand his friend's flirtatious ways. I wasn't going to brush it off but made me feel uncomfortable. It was just odd. I drove home and was back way earlier than what I wanted to be. I was supposed to be back around four so I could make dinner and then relax for a while, but since I had so much time to waste I was just going to relax. My leisure time was consumed by art. I wanted to get into a good art school, but I wasn't going to kill myself trying to force myself in. I pulled into our long driveway with trees lined along the sides guiding me to our house. I got out and marched my stuff to the glass door. I fumbled around my stuff to find the keys. I was searching through several pockets and pouches before I threw everything down. I found it at the bottom of my bag. I shoved the key into the door and pushed my way inside. I dragged my stuff in and placed it beside the door.

"Dad!" I yelled. There was no answer. I guess I could prolong dinner until five. He could possibly have a business dinner or maybe grab a bite before heading back here, but I couldn't call him. Yesterday I ruined my phone in a freak accident. I was trying to get my raccoon, Meeko, out of a tree into and back into the house. My phone slipped from my hands because I stupidly held it while I tried to get the animal down. It fell and hit the wooden fence then fell into a bucket of water. So I ruined my phone. I couldn't call anyone.

I went back upstairs into my bedroom and slipped into bed. The cold end was just the right temperature to cool me off from the hot sun. I slowly drifted to sleep. I didn't sleep long because my shoulder began to shake. Startled, I sat up and looked over at the end of the bed. My father was smiling back at me. His smiled went from ear to ear. His hair was tied neatly into a ponytail and he was wearing his favorite blue suit. My dad was mayor of our city. It always odd when people on the street yell my name or glare at me in disapproval. My father did what he thought was best and stood his ground for anything he opposed, there was nothing wrong with that.

"Pocahontas." He said in his deep voice.

"Dad," I said and yawned. He laughed at me.

"How was your day?" He asked still smiling.

"Well, it was stupid. I meant some stupid hunters."

"Aw." His smile faded. "Don't let it get to you too much."

"I didn't, but they were still idiotic." I laughed, but he stayed silent.

"I tried calling you earlier, why didn't you pick up."

"I accidentally broke, my phone." I shrugged my shoulders. I looked around my room avoiding making eye contact with his eyes.

"Pocahontas."

"Father, you know I wouldn't do it on purpose. It was only an accident."

"And you want me to replace it?"

"Yes," I said, still trying to avoid eye contact. He got off my bed and left the room. He came back two minutes later.

"Here." He handed me a phone. It was his old iPhone 4s; black and still in great condition. It wasn't new, but it was a phone.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome." He headed out again. "You want take-out?"

"Sure."

I really can't understand why my dad never remarried. He had plenty of girlfriends, but he always told me that no woman compared to my mother. I didn't know her and my father refused to tell me anything about her other than she was the perfect woman. It's hard to look up to someone who wasn't walking around anymore. He was sure that I was turning out like her. He wanted me to be like her. He tried to get me into more high-class type, but I didn't fit into any of those categories. I really hated fine dining and wearing gowns.  
I went to pay the takeout guy and us then we sat down to dinner. We sat at the kitchen island with the high brown chairs. I pulled the food on the marble counter top and grabbed forks because we were not experts at chopsticks. We engaged in small talk while shoving noodles and egg rolls into our mouths. The sweet scent of sweet and sour chicken was mouthwatering and tasted just as delicious as it smelled.

"How do you like your new phone?" He asked.

"It's not my old one, but it a phone. Thanks again." I slurped more noodles.

"You know you are very much like your mother." He said. He pushed his food around on his plate.

"You tell me all the time."

"Because it's true. You'll make a fine wife for Kocoum."

"Father." I dropped my fork. It made a sound as it hit the counter. My father sighed then he crossed his arms.

"Kocoum is a good man. His family comes from money, he had a stable future."

"But, I don't like him. You're forcing him on me."

"I'm trying to build you a future. I don't want you to struggle."

"I'm not. Is it because I do art. Father, I can make money."

"It won't be enough!"

"You don't know that!" I jumped from my seat and stormed off outside. He was more than I could deal with right now.


	3. Chapter 3

I unhooked the broken lock from the decaying fence he never repaired. He made it from the wood that came from mother's favorite tree after it fell over in a storm. He was always trying to keep her so close, but he was pushing me farther away. It made no sense. He told how much I was like her, but it didn't feel that way. I wasn't as willing to sacrifice my everything to appease him. It wasn't fair and now it wasn't about my happiness, but what looked good to the public.

The door dragged against dirt making a bigger ditch every time. I slipped throw the door and ran through the woods. I didn't stop until I saw the stomp of what was my mother's favorite tree. It was here most of my life until lightening hit it, I didn't want to do anything thing with it. My dad wanted to turn into a fence. And that was that.

I rubbed my hand over the stump. The wood was still charred from when the lightening hit. I plumped down on what was a tree. I couldn't imagine what my mom would have said if she had saw what had happened, but she was gone . I couldn't even imagine her trying to defend me against marrying Kocoum. The way my father described her, she probably suggest I marry him. But that idea was only coming from father's biases.

The sky was completely dark. No lights except the stars so far out of reach that I envied them. They didn't have to worry about marrying a guy to keep up their father's reputation. I sat outside for what felt like a half hour. I placed my back on the stomp. My head was hanging off the edge my eyes were staring at the opposite tree. The blood slowly began running to my head. When I shut my eyes it didn't hurt that bad. I would have been more than happy enough to sleep out here in this spot, but the discomfort started to set in. I sat up; let my blood flow get back to normal then I marched myself back to the house. My father turned off all the lights and cleaned the kitchen. When I snuck back upstairs his bedroom light was off. I would deal with his demands later. I flipped on my night switch and stepped over piles of papers that I hadn't cleaned up from hours earlier. They all just so happen to be the same thing over and over. Trees, trees, and more trees. I picked up the most recent of the bunch. I still hadn't finished it. I could make it more interesting, but I always lacked that in my art. I only drew what I saw; never actually looking behind could possibly be there.

I took my new phone and placed it on the charger and waited for the apple to come up. I had only known one number by heart and the rest would have to be recovered when I got the chance. I dialed then number and waited. The phone rang a few times with the standard tone vibrating in my ear.

"Hello." His raspy voiced answered.

"Hello, Rolfey." I laughed.

"I can give you a million reasons why I'm glad that's not my name." He responded. He laughed.

"I like calling you that. It's special."

"It's a pet name. You know how I feel about pet names."

"But you are like my pet. You come when I call." I laughed and I heard him sigh in annoyance. He always pretended like he did care.

"Babe, what are you doing."

"I'm talking to you and looking at some drawings."

"Did you" He paused. I knew what he was going to ask, but I braced myself for it. "Tell your dad about us."

"No." Because I didn't tell my dad anything about my private life. I only let my dad know what I let him see. What he knew was that I was an inspiring artist and as far as he knew I had not love interests. But I didn't want to tell my dad about the college party I went to with some school friends nor did I want to tell him about the Sophomore named John I meant while sipping my first beer. Then it hit me, I now know two Johns, but I only like one. One of them didn't kill animals for sport. One of them is in college doing something with his life. Well, it was a jump to say the other John isn't doing something, but he is an arrogant jerk so I assumed he is not doing anything with his life. But my John, the John I love was amazing.

"So when are we going to tell." He asked. He put a lot of emphasis on the we.

"I don't know John. You're pressuring me to do something when I'm not sure how to handle it. He already has his mind set about me getting married." I could feel my eyes water. I forced back tears.

"He actually talked to you about the marriage thing." John asked. "Let me just talk to him Poca."

"I don't want you too because it would make things worse." I wiped the snot running from my nose with the back of my hand. Silence sank in on the other end of the phone. "Let me call you later." I heard him say something else, but I hung up too fast. I couldn't never tell my dad, it would hurt him too much.


	4. Chapter 4

I couldn't tell my dad about John and I because I didn't want to go through the drama. I knew that my dad was set on Kocoum and that wasn't going to change. I knew that what I really felt would never be considered because I was still thought of as a child.

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes. My head was suffering from a pounding headache. I wasn't growing tried, but I wasn't sure I wanted anything distracting me. I also left the lights on and I would have to go to the other side of the room to turn them off. I just pretended that they went off. I kept my eyes shut. I could see the redness behind my eyelids. My papers were still scattered around the floor. If anyone came in here they would ruin hours of precious work. As I shut my eyes again I cleared my head of anything that would make my head ache, but it was fresh in my head.

I don't remember when I fell asleep. It wasn't sunrise yet, but the light began to seep through my blinds. The birds outside called to one another with a relaxing melody that I used as my lullaby to put my back into sleep. The heaviness of my eyelids took over once I opened my eyes again. The crying I had done irritated my eyes. It was only a few tears, but enough to have my eyes crested over for the next day. I slid out of bed slowly. Placing each foot firmly on the cold floor. I dragged myself to the bathroom. I dressed for the day. There was nothing exceptional about my outfit. I pulled on my ruined jeans and a turquoise crop top. When I went to get my sandals I saw my phone light up. It was John. I let it go to voice mail and then placed my sandals on my feet. I didn't have the willpower to talk to John and I knew that anything we talked about would spark can argument. I was tired of arguing. My phone light up again and I realized that I turned it on silent at some point. I picked it up and answered.

"Poca?" John answered.

"Yes?" I sounded irritated, but I didn't want to discuss anything.

"I want to meet later this morning at the coffee shop on tenth street." He sounded more irritated that I did. It was odd because most of the time when we fought he was calm.


	5. Chapter 5

I was going to see John in hopes for him to understand where I was coming from. I was coming from a place of love. I wanted us to grow together and be a better couple. He knew that, but he couldn't get past the racial barrier. My dad didn't approve of interracial dating, nor did he want me dating any guy that would keep me away from my focus. I knew how to balance a relationship and school. I had done it for about a year.

When I got to the coffee shop, John was sitting in the back near the acoustic guitar player. He took a few sips from his mug and starting scanning the room. I waved my hand for him to notice me. He gestured me over and I took a seat right in front go him. He grabbed my hands before my butt actually hit the chair. He squeezed them really hard.

"Pocahontas." He gasped. "I don't want your father to get between us, but I feel like he is driving us apart. For the last couple of weeks, you have been distant from me. Why?"

I didn't have an answer for that. But I guess it was because I was going through stuff. I had just graduated a few weeks ago. He knew that.

"Are you breaking up with me?" I asked. I said it in a calm voice. No one was going to hear us with the guitar guy playing in the background.

"No. I'm trying to fix us." He let go of my hands. I thought it over for a couple of seconds, but I would have to ease into it. Just letting him visit my dad wouldn't go over well.

"John, I love you, but you can't meet my dad yet." John gasped loudly and jumped up from the table. He turned around and looked at me, but he kept walking. I didn't feel like crying. I didn't even feel I could make tears. We had this conversation tens of times. Not much was going to change.

"Did you just get dumped?"

I turned around and there was the other John. The stupid John.

"I didn't get dumped. We had an argument." John invited himself to sit down and I saw him gesture his friends away. He had a toothpick in his mouth and his blonde hair was in a man-bun.

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend." He pulled his toothpick out and raised his eyebrows.

"We never got that far in any of our conversation."

"We only had one."

"Exactly." I got up to leave and John got up too. I rolled my eyes at him and headed for the door. I heard the snickers of John's friends from behind. He shushed them and followed me out the door. I sighed loudly and walked down tenth street opposite way of my car. I really didn't want this creeper getting my tags and stalking me. As John followed behind me, eyes likely focused on my butt, he whistled a familiar tune. The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson. It was totally inappropriate, but he was a good whistler.

"I told you I had a boyfriend." I stopped walking.

"Yeah, but he's pretty shitty. I bet." John smiled. He had perfect white teeth. John threw his toothpick to the ground.

"Do you want to go to the playground?" John was still smiling.

"The playground?"

"Yeah. We can slide down slides and ride the swings. What do you say?"

I wanted to say no, but if he would leave alone.

"Whatever."


	6. Chapter 6

The last time I had been to the playground my boyfriend John and I had got into our first argument. He and I couldn't agree on who would win in a fight, Batman or Ironman. It was silly and immature, but that's when I knew he was the one. He was so passionate about what he believed and I thought that was attractive. The sun was beating down over my head. John insisted that we go down the slide together. Why did I feel a tingle in my stomach that wouldn't go away?

I rubbed my stomach in hopes to get it to go away. John ran up the stairs to go again and then he ran to the swings. His brain could not have been older than a five year. I was amazed he knew how to get home by himself. I went and sat on the swing farthest from him. I kicked my feet up and let my hair flow behind me.  
"Pocahontas." John came and sat next to me and. I stopped swinging.

"Yeh."

"Are you still mad at me about the deer?"

"No, I had actually forgotten about it."

"Huh, I thought you would be the one to hold a grudge."

"I don't hold grudges."

"Really? Not with anyone?" John started to swing.

"No." I started to swing again.

"I think you're lying?"

"I don't lie."

"Ok. Can I ask you a personal question?" He stopped swinging. I keep going. John was smiling with all his perfect teeth. He bit his lip and crossed his arms.

"I guess," I answered.

"Are you going to end things with your boyfriend?" John was looking up at me and I was still relaxing enjoying the ride.

"No," I answered quickly, but I regretted it. John grabbed my legs. He stood right in front of me. My hands were still wrapped around the chains of the swing. He inched his way in-between my legs. I could feel the pit of my stomach drop.

"I just wanted to know." He pushed a piece of my hair behind my ears. He moved his hands to my thighs. He leaned in forward; I could feel his breaths against my cheeks. I backed away and hit the ground. There were wood chips in my arms and my left wrist began killing me. My leg was still in the seat. John looked confused, but he continued to help me to my feet. I backed away from more. John puffed his chest and reached his hand out to help me. I really didn't know what he was playing at, but I knew that he had a plan in mind.

I dragged myself up with my good hand. I brushed my legs and my left arm. I clenched my wrist trying to hold it in place. It throbbed, but I tried to ignore it. John walked towards me.

"I have to go." I sprinted away. My car was still about two miles from where I was. I could hear heavy footsteps in the distance. I ran faster then I hit the ground again this time with both my hands in the air. John stopped right in front of me and grabbed me. He pulled me behind an old brick building. We were farther away from the street and farther away from help if I needed it.

I was pushed against the wall. He brushed my hair behind my ear.

"Pocahontas," John whispered.

"Don't hurt me." I protested.

"I wouldn't do that." His voice deepen. "I just think you're special." John brushed his lips against my cheek. I turned my head. His fingers rubbed my shoulders; my body tensed. "I just think you can do better than a whiny little boy."  
My hearted pounded against my chest. I stayed silent. My eyes were watered, I couldn't fight back the tears. A few slipped down my cheek.

"Don't cry." His voice went back to a whisper. He wiped my tears.

"Just let me go."

"But, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I don't know that."

"You think I would do horrible things to you?"

"Yes." My lips trembled. My wrist still throbbed. "I want you to let me go."

"Fine, but I like the time we were spending together." I felt the heat of John's breath leave. He rubbed his chin. "I guess I'll see you later." He looked me up and down. He scraped his nails against the brick and then he was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

I was sitting in the car with all my doors locked and my phone clutched in my hand. My wrist was stolen and my arms and legs were covered in small weeps. I checked for John one last time in my rear view mirror and also on the streets. I didn't need him to follow me home. I would have taken my license plate off if I didn't need it. I turned on the car and sped off. The horns in the background were relaxing to me as I raced myself home to safety. John didn't know where I lived and he had no idea the connections I had or what I was capable of.

Even after everything that happened I still had that butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want him to hurt me, but I didn't know why I wanted to see him again. His face was permanently implanted in my brain. I could still picture his perfect smile and all his white teeth. My hands trembled and the rest of me was stinging as my sweat hit my cuts.

I was actually surprised nothing more happened; I was prepared for the worst. When he let me go I was relieved, but it also seemed too easy. There had to be more to come because it was possible that I would actually see him again. He never fails to show up in the most unexpected places. But why would I want him to show up? He assaulted me.

I pulled into the driveway and stared at the house to see if any lights were on. It appeared mostly dark, so I could only assume that my father was out. I needed him right now; not for protection. He was the only person I could talk to right now. My John wasn't up for a friendly conversation. I still had to find a way to convince him that meeting my dad was a futile mission.

And that was still on my mind after everything that happened. My John, the one I was in love with was still in my thoughts and I still worried that he would leave me.

I opened the door to the Hawaiian breeze infested house. The temperature was below freezing that meant my dad was stressed. When he stresses he sweats and so turns the temperature down. I left it the way it was. My room was also affected by the coldness and it affected my mood. I preferred to have it nice and warm; just like the sun hitting my face. The contrast of my father and I's personalities were the reason that I once considered moving out. I would get my our apartment and a job at the art gallery not far from the coffee shop and invite Rolfey over every night so that we could make love in peace. Well, when we finally got to that point in our relationship; he respected my wishes to wait, but sometimes I wanted him to be more assertive. Sometimes I felt like I dominated our relationship.

My wrist still throbbed; I started to look for something to wrap my wrist in. The only thing I saw was a white scarf covered in sequence. That wasn't going to be were papers were still scattered across the floor. When I tried to step over all of them I accidentally stepped on one. There were writings on the back. Most of them said, "Pocahontas Rolfe". I laughed a little and flipped it over. A black and white picture of me and Rolfey was on the other side. Our smiles were wide and were embraced each other like we were never going to let go. I wished it was like that again. I wish that we could be in love and embrace each other more often. Now the only thing he wants to do is fight. I hate to fight. I hate saying things that I will later regret to hurt him because he hurt me. That was most of our conversations and he knew that we were slipping. I should have ended our relationship a few hours ago.

I ripped up the picture of John and me; it wasn't us anymore. There was slim hope that I could fix everything between us without each one of us getting hurt.

"Pocahontas!" My father called. I ran to the stairs.

"Father?"

"Pocahontas, I have really good news. I talked to a few people and now we hosting an art fest in the park in a few weeks. I thought we can feature a few pieces from yours truly."

I raised my brow. My father was doing something for me that I actually wanted to do.

"Wow. I don't know what to say."

"I do things to make my favorite girl happy." My dad was smiling ear to ear. I flushed.

"Thank you, dad. Really, you don't know how much I need this."


	8. Chapter 8

The art fest was the best thing to happen after these last few days went straight to hell. I couldn't say the timing was perfect because I didn't have anything prepared. My best work was trees and after the seventh one, I wanted to burn the next tree I saw. I love trees.

I picked up my notepad and grabbed an HB pencil. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. I didn't need to do that. I needed to draw what I was feeling. I had mixed feeling about two different men. One man was sensual, sweet, and loving. He cared about me and tried his hardest to make me happy, even when I treated him like dirt. The other man was sadistic, arrogant, but alluring. He made me want him even when I knew I shouldn't even be attracted to a guy like that. I should stay away from him, but there was something about that perfect smile that made me tremble. That's what I knew I was going to draw.

I texted Rolfe. He responded back much to my surprise.

Hey

Hi

What are you doing?

I'm reading Pride & Prejudice.

Why would he be reading a book like that during a time like this? I only knew a bit of the story, but not enough. I did know there was a movie.

How about you come over and we watch the movie.

Maybe later.

Are you trying to avoid me?

No, I just don't want to see a movie right now.

Would you lie to me?

I would never lie to you.

I feel you just did.

I throw my phone on the bed. John was changing. Since it was likely he would hold a grudge, I wasn't going to see him again until he was ready to make amends.

"Pocahontas!" My father called. I went to the stairs. My father had on a nice blue suit and his new brown shoes. His hair was tied back and he was smiling at me like he always was.

"Father?" I smiled back.

"I want you to meet my new intern, John Smith." He gestured John over. John walked over with his hair still in a man bun. He had a white button down shirt with a red tie. "He will be working with me this summer. Pocahontas come to greet John."

I really didn't have words to explain what I felt. Flashbacks of him pushing me against the wall flooded my brain. The butterfly feeling was raging in my stomach. I started walking down the staircase tightly griping the railing. I stopped at the last step.

"Pocahontas." John reached out his hand. With little hesitation, I stretched my hand out to grab his. I felt my heart pounding out my chest.

"John."

My father clapped his hands together.

"Glad you two met, let's get lunch."


	9. Chapter 9

I had to change my clothes because my father suggested that we have lunch at a more upscale restaurant. My least worn red dress was hiding in the back of my closet. I had not worn it in a year; that's because I convinced my dad that I didn't belong at fancy dinner parties and Galas. The dress wasn't very appropriate for anything except maybe a cocktail party. I didn't go to those either. I pulled at it a few times before I gave up. My butt and lady part was going to feel a breeze. When we sat down to lunch, I crossed my legs. John smirked then sat down next to me. He placed his hands on his lap. I had moved over a few inches before I hit the wall. I suggested we get a table, but my father wanted a booth.

"John, You will be here the rest of the year?" My father took a drink of his water.

"Yes, but I will return to my hometown to get my belongs so I can permanently stay here in Virginia." John straightened himself, placed his hands on the table and looked directly at my father. "I hope to one day become a politician myself."

"Really." I couldn't help myself.

"Yes, I want to get into politics, or journalism. I like to report what I see and share that information with the world."

"You can do that with Facebook," I said. I rolled my eyes.

"Pocahontas." My father was stern. The waiter came back and filled out glasses, and I bowed my head in embarrassment. I don't think the server was paying any attention. I tugged at my dress some more. John shot his eyes at me, but it wasn't with resentment. He continued with my father. I wasn't sure how I felt about John staying here. It was okay for a few weeks but permanently was not sitting right in my stomach. After our moment behind that building, I scared of the things he was capable of.

"No, she's right. Facebook is just a platform like many other social media outlets." John said then curled his lips into a smirk. The look he gave me was iconic in our conversations; it was his signature look. He pushed back his blonde hair. I bit my lip; I didn't have anything else to say.

I gazed back over to my dad who was scrolling through his phone. As he completely ignored me, I was being seduced by a blue-eyed monster. When the waiter placed our food onto the table, it remained quiet as we ate and sipped water and ate some more. Th waiter came by and poured more water into our glasses. My dad broke the silence speaking to John only, but trying to include me into the conversation moments later.

"My Pocahontas will have a few pieces in the Art Fest." My father smiled at me.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"What are you drawing?" John said, nudged me.

"You'll see it at the Art Fest." I nudged him back. Most of the lunch was a conversation between my dad and John, and when we got back to our house, it didn't change. I went into the room, stepped over all my drawings then picked up the one I was working on. I had already chosen the portraits I wanted to use in the Art Fest. Most of them were trees but, one was purple, and the other was done in charcoal. I grabbed a red marker and started to work on my drawing more.

Someone knocked on the door, and I gave them the okay to enter. John waltzed into my bed. His eyes roamed focused on Justin Timberlake; then they stared at the papers on the floor.

"Messy." He said.

"I like my filth." I continued drawing.

"Your dad, He's nice."

"Yeah. That's why people voted for him and trusted him with their problems." I made more marks on my paper. John roamed through my room. He laughed at the Justin Timberlake poster.

"What are you eight?" He laughed.

"No. I like what I like." I got up to kick him out, but he stood in my way. He lifted my chin.

"Don't act like you don't want me because I know you do." He said. I backed away. John brushed his thumb over my lips. I stuck my tongue out to gross him out, but he forced his thumb in. He tasted sweet; it was as if the last thing he ate was coated in sugar.

I couldn't imagine how awkward this looked. John pulled me closer. My breast was pressed against his chest. That's how close we were. He pulled his thumb from my mouth then he stuck his tongue out. He placed his tongue in my mouth. He was kissing me. I kissed him back. He ran his fingers through my hair. I felt relaxed. He had a pleasant musk. John pulled away. I brushed his cheek with my palm then John left. My hand was left hanging in the air. I went downstairs and saw John telling my father goodbye. I waved goodbye to John, but he didn't acknowledge my gesture. I wasn't offended. I ignored him and gave him the cold shoulder often.

My father closed the door. His loafers came toe to toe with my feet. I focused my eyes on him. There were only a few times my dad made me nervous.

"You like him?" My father asked.

He's nice." I said. I smiled.

"Glad you like him. He's a guy I would approve of you dating." He shoved his hands in her pockets.

"What?" I was confused, and my smile went away.

"He's a good young man."

"I thought you didn't like me dating white guys."

"I never said that."

"But you always mention Kocoum. I assumed that you only wanted me dating from our tribe."

"Kocoum has had some issues that are unfavorable to me right now."

"But what about that guy John Rolfe? You didn't like him."

"I don't like him. He has his head in the clouds. That's not a man I want dating my daughter."

I couldn't believe what my father was telling me right now.


End file.
